If We Liked Women
by hoarder
Summary: Set during 1x06 'I Kissed a Girl'. First chapter is Jane's POV.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: **This may turn into a slightly shippy fic, it might. I really don't know. I don't know how many chapters I'm planning, although I know that there will be at least one more. This episode was just too amazing to leave alone, and I am writing fics every week after the episodes, this one was just a day late! Reviews, as usual, would be lovely.

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A movement beside me is what woke me up, and now I can't get back to sleep. The warmth I felt shocked me, and I rolled over to see my best friend lying beside me. 3am and she still manages to look flawless. How? Her clothes without a crease, her hair like spun gold, everything about her looking perfect. She's a constant source of annoyance.

There was a time when the thought of having a best friend was completely foreign to me. Especially a female best friend. Growing up, girls hated me. I was into sports, I was far from attractive, and I'm 95% sure that they all thought I was gay. The boys weren't all that interested either. Looking back, I'm almost convinced they were intimidated. Ma said it at the time, and I'm starting to see why. Iw as strong, I was opinionated, and I was better at them than sports. But now, I have Maura. Almost exactly the kind of girl who hated me. She's gorgeous, she's perfect. I still see no reason for her to be my friend, but she is.

I don't think I could ever tell her how much I admire her. I wouldn't, it'd be so awkward. You don't say things like that to your friends, you just don't. She's everything I wanted to be when I was younger. I was never unhappy, but there were always aspects of myself I wished I could change. There still are. I'm not unintelligent, I know that, but I wish I'd done something with it. I wish I thought in scientific terms, I wish it was completely odd to me that somebody wouldn't know what 'orbicularis oculi and pars orbitalis' meant. I wonder how different I'd be if I had gone to University. I wonder if we would've ever crossed paths. If we had, would we have liked each other without the experiences that formed who we are now? It feels weird to even be thinking about the possibility that I wouldn't have her in my life.

Sometimes I wish I could have that... flair that she has. She's naturally flirtacious, and she has this energy that means you can't help but smile when you see her. She can walk into a room, and it makes me that little bit happier, regardless of why she's there. I wish I could have that easy perfection that I always think of when I think of her. The way her hair falls exactly into place, that dimple excentuates her perfect smile. She's exactly who I wanted to be when I grew up.

But now, although I still envy these qualities, I feel like I'm quite happy being me. Because I get to spend my time with her. I get to have the moments like this. The moments I missed out on as a kid. The moments that being a loser deprived me of.

There's something comforting about her presence. I don't know how or why she makes me feel safe, but she does. 3am. I have to be awake in three and half hours, yet I'm lying here, lazily staring at my friend. If she woke up, she'd be... well, no. Anyone else would be freaked out. Maura would think it was completely normal. She'd make some comment. Something that would include terms that I'd have to Google later today.

I can't help thinking about what she said. What kind of women would we like, if we liked women? I may not be her type, but I'm sure she'd be mine. How could she not be? Not only is she sweet, caring, intelligent, and funny, but she's gorgeous. Her eyes have this way of looking at you, and making you feel like you're the only person she's interested in speaking to. And her hair practically glistens, for God's sake!

Sometimes it feels like we're practically a couple as we are. We spend so much, _too much_, time together. This isn't the first time we've found ourselves lying in bed together. She's my safehaven. The person I run to, the person who's always there. She's the one who knows I'm upset before I do. My parents like her more than they've ever liked anyone else I've known. Granted, they think she's a little odd, but they know she's amazing. She tries to dress me, she eats my ma's peanut butter and fluff sandwiches., we're so different, but she's never tried to change me. We actually have a better relationship than any real relationship I've ever been in.

So, it's 3am. Wait, it must be way past 3am. 3:30?, and she looks perfect. Peaceful, beautiful. Comforting. Subconciously petting the dog that we practically own together. Smiling in your sleep, I'm sure that means you're dreaming? All I know for sure, is that it makes her look so adorable, that it takes all I have in me not to laugh.

Yeah, there's no doubt that if I liked women, I'd like her.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: **thank you all for the all the lovely words about the first chapter! Upon re-reading myself, and thinking more about the direction, I decided that I'd make it shippy sooner than I'd initially planned! This chapter's from Maura's POV, and... well, you guys can read. And if you can't you're probably in the wrong place.

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She said I had to be involved, right? We had to go undercover together. So, why am I nervous? She's the one going on these... dates. Ugh, the thought of it bothers me more than it should. I'm just there because I have to be. I'm not the one flirting or being hit on or potentially meeting up with a killer. I'm just the one who has to watch her be hit on. Watch her flirt. Watch her date.

Hypocritical, I know, considering I'm the one who dragged her along on a double date. That's different though. That was to flaunt it all. God, that's terrible, isn't it? I wanted to have fun, flirt, and leave with a guy, right in front of her. I set her up with a guy I knew she wouldn't be able to stand, in the hopes that she'd remember that my date was going so much better than hers. I don't know if I was hoping she'd be jealous, but I did it anyway.

I don't know if I was hoping that comment about her not being my type would bother her, yet I felt the need to make it. Defense, maybe? I don't know. But I had to say it. And there was something oddly serene about waking up this morning with her. It didn't feel uncomfortable, it felt... right. It felt natural. It felt like we'd been doing this for years.

And now, here I am. Zipping myself into... this. Whatever this is. It's actually kind of cute, in a slutty way. I could've done anything, so why did I choose to be a waitress? I'm convinced it was all because of this outfit. This outfit is revealing, it hugs in the perfect places, and it shows off my... assets.

Am I hoping she'll notice me? Of course I am. Am I worried she'll like one of her dates? I am. But I have no way to express this. I can't turn around and say to her "Hey, Jane? I just think you should know that I'm kind of falling in love with you, and I'm going to be insanely jealous of each girl you flirt with tonight. Also, I wore this dress so you'll stare at my boobs, so please. Go ahead, stare." Somehow, I don't think that would evoke _quite_ the reaction I'm hoping for.

Her first date's a mess. No need for jealousy there. She's practically crying and I've never seen Jane look more bored. And that's saying something, coming from me. At least half of what I say bores her. I take over their drinks, and, _yes_! She, quite obviously, stares at my breasts. I knew this outfit would work. She looks for a little longer than she should, and the eye contact lingers before I leave. I feel giddy. What the hell is wrong with me? I'm acting like a thirteen year old.

The second one? Well, she came on far too strong. I could see that from across the room. That's not Jane. I know I'm probably play it too subtle, but too strong? That's a no-no. Jane wouldn't want to date somebody stronger than her, I know that for sure.

Then I have to watch the third get over familiar. Grabbing her hand, leaning in a little too close. It makes me feel sick. Logically, and physically, there's no reason for this to cause nausea. Yet I understand it all too well. She walks away and touches her thigh. Why did I agree to this? I knew the envy would be overwhelming.

I'm gone barely a second before the last one sits down. Okay, this one's prettier than me. She is. She definitely is. Whatever she's saying, Jane's listening. Intently. She's leaning in, even. Please let this be pertinent to the case. Please? I wait impatiently for her to leave, and Jane comes over and sits in front of me at the bar, handing me the girl's glass.  
"Have fun?"

"Oh, sure. I just love meeting random" she leans into me and whispers "potential killers while they drool all over me and grab me and... for such a _fashionista_, you manage to pull off that outfit". More lingering eye contact. More giddiness. Pull yourself together.  
"All done for the night then?" She nods, and says it's time to leave. And it's automatically assumed we're leaving together.


End file.
